


Braccas Meum, Tuus Braccas

by viktorkrumn



Category: The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Don't copy to another site, Gen, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-04 23:17:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20479100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viktorkrumn/pseuds/viktorkrumn
Summary: Isabelle can't find her favorite pair of pants... I wonder who could have borrowed them? Definitely not every single resident of the Institute, and some others. Definitely not.





	Braccas Meum, Tuus Braccas

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written in December of 2016 and saved - believe it or not - in my Wattpad drafts. Apparently my writing ages fairly well. I found it just now, edited slightly, and here we are.

**Thursday**

Isabelle had a wonderful pair of black skinny jeans. In fact, they were her favorite pants. They were tight and shiny and flexible and wonderful and she couldn't find them. She had looked everywhere; her room was even messier than usual. There were piles of clothes and makeup and weapons strewn all over the floor, bed, desk and dresser, her closet was nearly empty, and she still couldn't see her jeans anywhere.

**Sunday, 4 days earlier**

Clary was pacing nervously in her room at the Institute. Magnus had invited her to a party - a party! With people! At night! - and she didn't have anything suitable to wear. Normally she wouldn't have even gone, but Isabelle and Simon were on a date, Jace was visiting Idris, and her mom and Luke had plans. She had nothing else to do. At least Alec would be there. So now Clary was on the hunt for clothes. And when you need clothes in the New York Institute, there is one place you can always find them: Izzy's room. Clary gingerly knocked on the door, dreading whatever mini dress Izzy was going to put her in this time, but no response came. Isabelle had probably already left with Simon. Clary tried the handle. Thankfully the door was unlocked, but since Isabelle wasn't there, Clary would have to find her own outfit.

Ten minutes and twenty shirts later, Clary found a simple but elegant white halter top, which was admittedly a bit see-through but would serve its purpose for tonight. And now, pants. Oh god, **pants**. She was about to commence the impossible task of finding something that wasn't a skirt or a dress in Isabelle's closet... Clary took a deep breath and stepped toward the closet. She scanned the rows of clothes hopelessly - they weren't in any order; shirts and skirts and leggings and fashionable cardigans all hung side by side, and the only way to do this was to look through them all. She took another deep breath and started looking through the closet, touching each item as she went. Her hand passed along a bright pink dress, a dark green miniskirt, a tight purple crop top, black jeans, a golden puffy skirt...

Hold on. Black jeans? No way were these Izzy's. She must have borrowed them from Alec, but they looked both fashionable and comfortable, and Clary was running out of time. She quickly put them on, grabbed her keys, wallet, and phone, and ran to a party she was late for.

**Monday, 3 days earlier**

Jace needed to surprise Clary. He had just gotten back from Idris, meaning he hadn't seen her for a week, and he wanted to do something for her. And what did Jace do when he didn't have any ideas? He joked about whatever it was. So, he decided, he would have to do something absolutely hilarious and fun. Although he might have been taking it a bit too far when he decided to dress up all in Clary's clothes, since right now he couldn't find anything that fit him.

Jace stood in Clary's room at the Institute, wearing a light pink t-shirt that stretched extremely tightly over his chest and arm muscles. He looked positively ridiculous, which was exactly what he wanted right now, assuming only Clary would see him. He couldn't look at himself in the mirror ever again if anyone else saw him right now. But Jace was still lacking one thing: pants. (He had already decided to keep his own underwear and not to try wearing a bra, as he would probably ruin it by accident). The only problem: Clary was short and tiny and a girl, and Jace was a tall, muscular guy. What pants could possibly fit him?

Well, it was too late to think of something new right now, because Clary had gone home to change clothes and would be back in about 10 minutes (she had returned from Magnus's party at three in the morning and had crashed on her bed at the Institute with most of her clothes on).

'Quick,' Jace told himself (because Jace was the only person that Jace listened to), and quickly scanned the room again. Aha! Over in a dark and dusty corner, what was definitely the leg of a dark pair of pants peeked out from beneath a chair. It was the only item of clothing that Jace hadn't looked at yet, and he practically jumped over to pick up a pair of black jeans that looked a bit too big for Clary. She must have borrowed them from Alec, which meant they were big enough for Jace to put on, and he was running out of time. Jace pulled the jeans on and rushed over to the bed, posing in what he considered a sexy pose on top of the blanket.

**Tuesday, 2 days earlier**

Magnus was wandering the halls of the Institute. He hadn't completely mastered the art of navigating them yet, but he was fairly certain that he knew where Alec's room was. Magnus turned left, then right, then another right... He was pretty sure that one of these rooms was Alec's, but now he needed to find the correct one. Magnus pushed a door slightly open. The room was a complete mess; there were clothes everywhere and there seemed to be a thick layer of makeup and glitter over everything. Definitely Izzy's room. Magnus approved of her style, and normally he would have stayed and looked through the room, but right now he was a man on a mission. He reminded himself of the steps again:

1) Get into the Institute - done.

2) Find Alec's room - he was pretty close (or so he thought, at least).

3) Grab a pair of jeans - no, Magnus definitely did not want to think about why he needed new pants. It would suffice to say that there had been a horrible accident involving Chairman Meow, glitter, coffee, and Magnus' wardrobe.

4) Get out as quickly as possible and hopefully arrive on time to his date.

5) Amaze Alec so much that he doesn't realize that Magnus is wearing his pants.

Magnus sighed. He had a long way ahead of him. He pushed open the next door to find an immaculately organized room. No luck - this was Jace's room. Magnus was about to close the door when he saw a pair of black jeans folded neatly on a chair near the bed. Those couldn't be Jace's... he must have borrowed them from Alec, and Magnus felt that he was entitled to take his boyfriend's clothes, even if said clothes weren't exactly in his boyfriend's room. Magnus quickly shed the hideous pair of sweatpants he had on, wriggled into the jeans, and started running towards his date as if his life depended on it (which, seeing as he was dating a Shadowhunter, it probably did).

**Wednesday, one day earlier**

Alec was looking frantically through his boyfriend's mounds of clothes. Last night, after their date, Magnus and Alec had come back to Magnus' place and fallen immediately asleep... and now Alec couldn't find his jeans.

He didn't even remember taking them off. It had been late - around 1 AM - and Alec was exhausted. Sure, it was a great date, but the Shadowhunter had almost no memory of the end of it. He just remembered cuddling in Magnus' arms and falling asleep and... and now his jeans were gone. So Alec had to find them, since there was an Enclave meeting in about an hour. Alec shoved aside the group of clothes he had been looking through - and which did not contain his jeans - and started going through a new one. There were brown stains - was that coffee? - on most of the clothes. Alec made a mental note to ask Magnus about it later - assuming he could find his jeans, get to this meeting, and not get murdered by his mother.

Magnus was busying himself in the next room, making coffee that Alec would not have time to drink and toast that Alec would not have time to eat. Alec considered calling the warlock over - after all, the pants were only lost because Magnus owned ridiculous amounts of clothing - but thought better of it. Magnus would either stand in the corner and laugh at Alec, or use some spell that would find Alec's jeans but would also make them reek of cheese and celery all day long. So Alec continued searching alone, his movements becoming quicker and more frantic as he thought of how long it would take him to walk to the Institute - and how much longer it would take to take any form of public transportation in the morning rush hour.

Finally, after many false alarms, Alec finally found a pair of his jeans. He noted absentmindedly that they weren't the ones he had been wearing yesterday - Magnus must have borrowed them from Alec sometime, although Alec couldn't remember when. Nonetheless, they were his pants, and so a very late Shadowhunter pulled on a pair of pants that he had not been wearing the night before, kissed his warlock, and ran. Unfortunately for him, this word can be used extremely literally when talking about Alec Lightwood on that particular Wednesday.

**Thursday, 5 minutes later**

When she was absolutely, definitely, positively sure that her jeans weren't in her room, Isabelle Lightwood could think of only one good place to satisfy the jeans craving she had woken up with that morning: her oldest brother's room.

Isabelle Lightwood was not one to knock, but she needed a favor from her brother, meaning she was going to act very politely today. She tapped her brother's door gingerly. "Alec?"

When no answer came, Izzy pushed the door slightly open. Alec's room was neat, definitely much neater than her own, but not immaculate like Jace's. Still, all of his clothes were in the closet. Izzy opened the closet quietly (the only thing worse than being caught in someone else's room, she decided, was being caught in someone else's room because you made too much noise), and immediately noticed the pair of black jeans. Satisfied, she pulled them off the hanger ('Who puts _ pants _ on a _hanger_?' she wondered), and that's when she saw the name tag: Alec Lightwood, scrawled in slightly messy handwriting. Two thoughts immediately passed through her mind: 'Even worse, who puts _ name tags _on their _clothes_?' and also, 'Guess these aren't actually mine. Huh.'

Isabelle Lightwood had a reputation to keep up, and her reputation dictated that she couldn’t give up on her favorite pair of pants just because they weren’t technically hers. She pulled on not-her jeans and went about her day.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, I would love it if you left kudos/comments. Find me on Tumblr: viktorkrumn.tumblr.com


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